


Feeding Ducks

by Ionlaisbored



Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: ? - Freeform, DONT PAY ATTENTION TO ME ITS CUTE, Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, feeding ducks, i'm not sure, mystrade, shhh - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 07:42:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1296889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ionlaisbored/pseuds/Ionlaisbored
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's where Lestrade and Mycroft finally get the pair of Sherlock and John together......FINALLY</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feeding Ducks

**Author's Note:**

> DON'T PAY ATTENTION TO ME ITS KINDA CUTE, IDK, SHUSH I'M PROCRASTINATING OTHER STORIES....SHUSHHHHH

Lestrade and John exited the cab, which they had rode from 221B.   
The both of them had planned to meet up, forming a little protection group from the Holmes brothers. More of a way to laugh about the two. With Lestrade being open about his relationship with Mycroft, he was more enjoyable to be around for John. Watson, on the other hand, had appeared to be so back in the closet, he was aware of what Narnia was like this time of year.   
They paced down the concrete roads that outerlaced the pond and trees which enclosed the park.   
Although they’d rather be pulling back a few pints at a bar, both Holmes brothers knew they’d be there. These little meetings were something of a secret for the two.   
“So, park, alright. Quite original.” John said as they kept on walking past children with parents, the occasional goose or duck, and some squirrels.   
“Yeah, yeah.” Lestrade replied distractedly,”I’d never expect the two muckin’ around out here. Too… normal.”   
“So, Mycroft and you?” John asked with a welcoming smile,”How’re things coming along?”  
“Fine, actually. Although he’s a bit…. shy to things. You and Sherlock?” Greg asked.   
John sighed at his repetitive problem,”He’s still oblivious.”  
“God, for a genius, he’s bloody thick, isn’t he?” He replied.   
John remanced the thought of Sherlock. Every little beautiful thing about him, his cheekbones, his brain, his coat, the purple ill fitting button shirt, everything.   
If only, if only, Sherlock would realise. John was pushed up into a corner, forced to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself. Unable to tell Sherlock of his deep attraction and love for him. To keep the fact that every second of everyday was spent thinking of the detective.   
John looked up and around his environment.   
Over, by side the lake, were two men hardly in sight of John. One sitting on a bench opposite to the small shore of the pond, the other sitting cross legged on a sheet which had been laid out carelessly.   
“Speaking of which….” John murmured, staring back at the two men as Lestrade and him walked closer.   
“What?” Greg was oblivious.   
“Looks like we really can’t escape them.” John said, pointing to the two. Mycroft, staring down longingly at the handle of his umbrella, had been at the bench while talking to Sherlock.   
“Hmm, shall we say hello?” Lestrade asked, walking towards them quicker than before.   
“Alright, I guess but…. is Sherlock feeding ducks?” John asked, being able to see the two brothers more clearly. Sherlock had been sitting cross legged, with a loaf of bread half opened next to him.   
Lestrade ignored his comment and approached Mycroft, leaning down while pressing his hands on the back of the bench.   
“Having fun?” He asked, startling the British Government.   
“Gregory, that wasn’t necessary. Why are you here, love?” He asked, looking back at the DI. He addressed Lestrade as ‘love’ to simply piss off Sherlock.   
The detective turned around to see the two behind the bench. John walked past towards Sherlock.   
“So what’re you two doing here? I thought you despised going near each other and now you’re… feeding ducks together?” John asked, looking back at Mycroft, and Sherlock.   
“Sherlock’s feeding ducks. I’m discussing things of importance.” Mycroft corrected,”A stupid and childish attribute my dear brother still keeps from his childhood.”  
“It’s not….” Sherlock decided not to go into further detail. John crouched down, then sat next to him in indian style as well.   
He looked out at the pond in front of them, seeing an accumulation of small ducks quaking and waiting eagerly for bread.   
“What things of importance?” Greg asked.   
“Nothing I posses the power to share.” Mycroft replied, looking grimly at Sherlock. He glared back him angrily, causing an awkward tension.   
Sherlock looked back at John with eyes that translated to,’oh hell.’ and looked back at the pond.   
After moments of awkwardness, John looked down at the loaf of bread and pulled out a slice.   
“Hmm,” He mumbled to himself and threw it in front of them.   
“You did it wrong.” Sherlock said, looking at him with unblinking eyes.   
“What? How did I do that wrong?!” John asked instantly.  
“You have to break it up, John.” He said juttingly. He tore off a chunk of bread from the bag and tossed it to the small ducks.   
“There.” He said impatiently.   
“So is this just a thing you two do? Gossip and feed ducks?” Lestrade asked.  
“Every Friday afternoon,” Mycroft said confrontationally.   
John started to throw out of chunks of bread along with the detective.   
“Which actually begs the question why you two ran into us. Having fun in the park? Not really your usual routine.” Sherlock looked back at Lestrade.   
“Well, umm…” Greg replied.   
“John?” Sherlock turned to him.   
John stared back at him blankly, unsure what to say.  
Mycroft gave Lestrade a look, a que to whatever plan they had set up.   
“Um, uh, why should we, uh, share with you things if you don’t do the same?” John panicked, looking back at Sherlock.   
“You’re babbling. I don’t like it when you do that,” Sherlock huffed and threw some more bread at the ducks.   
The group was silent for a few seconds of John silently stealing glances of Sherlock here and there as the detective threw chunks of bread at the ducks, attempting to get them to fight over it.  
John thought of how many ways he could’ve kissed Sherlock at that moment, to get it over with. He could bite Sherlock’s lips, explore his mouth, feel his tongue.   
Sherlock put a halt to John’s fantasies by standing up and looking back at his brother and Lestrade.   
“Well, I believe this has been too drawn out and I’ve run out of bread. Good bye Mycroft. Geoff.” He said while straightening his coat.   
“It’s Greg.” he replied as everyone else got up.

**Author's Note:**

> COMMENT FOR SECOND CHAPTER, although I highly doubt you people want another one..ughhh


End file.
